


(Shut Up And) Dance With Me

by Fourthlinewinger



Series: Fathers and Sons and Daughters [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: And More Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, alex ovechkin is very loud, fluff and fluff and early grumpy mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 05:55:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11285049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fourthlinewinger/pseuds/Fourthlinewinger
Summary: The noise was as loud and obnoxious as a fire alarm, or certain goal sirens, or twenty-five drunk hockey players at a bar.Sasha was singing.Nicke groaned, and tried to go back to sleep.





	(Shut Up And) Dance With Me

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up a few days ago and wanted to stop being sad, and this was the result :)

The music was terrible.

Nicke was aware of how awful the sound was before he was actually awake. It was loud and obnoxious as a fire alarm, or certain goal sirens, or twenty-five drunk hockey players at a bar. His scowling face was buried under the pillows. It did little to deaden the noise. Then a particularly off-key warble hit like a puck to the head and Nicke found himself upright and awake. Early morning sun was leaking around the drawn curtains and streaking across the floor. The air conditioning wasn’t on, yet. The space beside him in bed was empty and cool.

Sasha was singing.

The sun was barely up, so of course Sasha was up, out of bed, and making more noise than a house full of six year olds. Nicke groaned and flopped back down on the bed, hoping sleep would return and he could pretend this never happened. He fidgeted, trying to get comfortable. He stuck one foot outside the blankets and then brought it back in when that was too cold. He rolled onto his side and onto Sasha’s pillow, cooler and fluffier than his own, and then onto his stomach with his head underneath Sasha’s pillow to escape the sun. He counted to fifty in Swedish, and then English, and then Russian. He curled into a ball and straightened out again.

But no, nothing. Ten minutes of languishing in bed was ten minutes of Sasha singing shitty Russian techno, interspersed with the high pitched squealing that meant the kids were up, too. There would be no lazy morning. Nicke rolled over and stared at the ceiling. The ceiling did nothing interesting, and neither did it give him the magical secret to more sleep.

Resigned to his fate, Nicke rolled out of bed and went to track down the hooligans who were making such a ruckus at - he checked the useless alarm clock on his nightstand - 6:43 in the morning.

He found his two small hooligans and his one supersized one in the downstairs living room. Arsya was bouncing around and giggling to the music Sasha had blasting through the sound system. He was still in his pajamas, but he was also wearing Sasha’s shirt as a cape, so he had clearly decided to be respectable. Alyonushka and Sasha were doing hamstring stretches on the floor, a barechested Sasha pushing a little too hard, and Alyonushka in a Team Russia shirt and weagle sweatpants. Periodically they all shouted along with lyrics they particularly liked. None of them realized he was standing in the doorway.

"You know, it's not even 7 o’clock yet," Nicke announced to the room at large.

Sasha and Alyonushka turned to look at him. Arsya screamed, "Pappa!" and dove on him like a heat seeking missile. Nicke caught him before he could send both of them crashing to the floor.

“Up up up up up,” Arsya enthused.

"Hi, Pappa," Alyonushka said, slightly breathless from singing while bent in two.

"Good morning, my joy." Sasha grinned at him. "You look cranky."

"I was trying to sleep," Nicke said dryly, wrangling Arsya to his hip. He looked at his son's blue eyes and pink cheeks. "Shouldn't you be sleeping, as well? I don't think I've ever seen you willingly up this early when you have school."

"Pappa, it's summer, not school!" Arsya said, waving his hands around so Nicke was forced to hold him tighter to keep from falling him. Arsya giggled and smacked a kiss to Nicke’s chin.

Nicke rolled his eyes but dropped a return kiss on top of Arsya’s blond curls. "Alyonushka, would you turn the radio down before I get a migraine?" 

Arsya pouted. "I'm dancing to that!" he said, as a slightly-guiltier-looking Alyonushka stopped trying to copy Sasha’s pose and turned the music down a single notch.

"Very cranky," Sasha said, climbing carefully to his feet. He reached out and took Arsya from Nicke, settling the boy on his own hip, and wrapped his other arm around Nicke's waist. "Wanna go back to bed? I'll take the monsters out to breakfast." He kissed Nicke's forehead and then his mouth, lingering only a moment since there were -

"But Papochka, I thought we were gonna make breakfast for Pa-" Alyonushka started, then clapped her hands over her mouth. 

-two kids in the room destined to interrupt them for the next ten years.

"Maybe we make Pappa breakfast tomorrow." Sasha smiled reassuringly at her. "Go brush your hair and teeth. You want pancakes? Silly question, is always pancakes for Alyenka."

Arsya squirmed until Sasha let him slide down to the ground. He danced around to the beat that still shook the floor. "I want pancakes," he sang. "And waffles and bacon and sausage and eggs and -"

"You can't eat that much!" Alyonushka interrupted, in the middle of finger-combing her dark hair.

"Alyonushka," Nicke said, cutting off any argument before it could start. "Use a brush, honey."

"Go on," Sasha to Arsya. "Brush your teeth, and your hair, and put on shoes. You can have some of my food if you're still hungry after your pancake."

The kids clomped toward their rooms. Nicke heard Alyonushka say, "Bet I'll beat you there," and take off running, Arsya a moment and a protesting "Hey! No fair!" behind her.

Nicke groaned and turned his face into Sasha's shoulder. "I cannot believe I live in a house full of morning people."

As though to prove Nicke's point, Sasha laughed a cheerful belly laugh and wrapped himself around Nicke. "Go back to bed, Backy." He stroked his fingers gently down the nape of Nicke's neck. 

Nicke sighed and snuggled closer. "You promised breakfast."

"You want to come to breakfast with the monsters at 7 in the morning?" Sasha teased. “Who are you? You can’t be Lars Nicklas Bäckström.”

Nicke pinched his side. "Shut up. I want coffee."

"Well, that I can do immediately, but you have to let me go," Sasha said.

Nicke held him tighter. "Coffee at the restaurant," he compromised, just to feel Sasha’s laugh in his bones again, and went to breakfast at too-early in the morning with his family. 

(He did make Sasha put on a shirt, first)

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @ [fourthlinewinger](fourthlinewinger.tumblr.com)


End file.
